


tear you apart

by merrymegtargaryen



Category: The Spanish Princess (TV)
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Face Slapping, Rough Sex, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/merrymegtargaryen
Summary: A smutty deleted scene from Scottish Rose.
Relationships: Margaret Tudor/Alexander Stewart
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	tear you apart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itslaurenmae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslaurenmae/gifts).



> This is for Lauren, who, upon watching a certain scene from The Tudors, said, "omg imagine megander." AND IMAGINE I DID.
> 
> Merry Christmas, babe <3

It has been over a year since Meg and Alexander were wedded, and Henry is still not taking it well. 

There’s been trouble on the borders, as there always is, but this time it has escalated such that Henry is threatening war. Meg knows that her brother probably won’t declare an actual war, but he’s petty enough to make her life a living hell for the time being. He still has not forgiven her for marrying again and losing the regency, especially to a clan member who is, as Henry puts it, “in bed with the French.”

Worse still, the nobles seem to think that Meg should be doing more to stop her brother, as if Henry ever listened to her in the first place. She receives daily petitions asking her to intervene on behalf of Scotland--which wouldn’t be necessary, she can’t help thinking, if they didn’t make her give up the regency in the first place.

It’s all very frustrating, and Meg finds herself breaking into a bottle of wine to calm down.

But with each cup, rather than calming down, her frustration only increases until her husband has the misfortune to find her alone in her dining room. Meg, having decided that he is the root of her problems, screams, “I hate you!” and hurls a plate at his head, the porcelain shattering in a most satisfactory manner against the mantel.

Alexander ducks, eyes wide.

“You said everything would be alright! That’s what you said! That’s what you  _ promised!” _

“Fer the love of God, wife!”

“Don’t call me  _ wife,” _ she growls, hurling a pewter cup at him. He ducks again, and the cup smashes against a vase, shattering it neatly. “I don’t want to be your wife! I hate you!”

“No, you don’t!” he thunders, looking more irritated than anything. 

“Yes I do,” she insists, swigging the last of her wine. “If it weren’t for you, I would still be Queen Regent of Scotland. And now what am I?”

“You are still Queen of Scotland, but you are also drunk and foolish.” Alexander moves forward, having determined there aren’t anymore objects she can hurl at him. “Yer brother will not march on us. He is just standing on his pride.”

She raises her now-empty cup at him, but he grips her wrist easily, drawing her so close their noses are brushing. She tries to ignore the rush of heat at his touch and his nearness, but after all, she is only human.

“You are a pig,” she breathes, but there’s no rancor behind her words.

Indeed, Alexander is smirking now. “You love me.”

“Mm,” she agrees, and kisses him. The cup in her hand clatters to the floor as they deepen the kiss, hands reaching eagerly for laces. The heat is sudden and consuming, and they only unlace what is necessary before he lifts her onto the table.

Meg slaps him, giggling at the look on his face, a delightful combination of surprise, anger, and desire. She slaps him again from the other side; growling, he thrusts inside her without warning, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure. The table rattles as he fucks her with hard, sharp thrusts, the room filling with their pants and groans. 

All in all, it is one of their better fights. 


End file.
